Page 38 of Bad Love

“So. We gonna do this or what?” Hunter asks from somewhere overme.

Yes. I won’t leave him likethis.

I force my lungs to work properly, blow out a long breath as I lift my face. "Okay. We’ll figure itout.”

Relief softens his expression. "Thankyou.”

I’m feeling too many things from the way he’s looking at me, regret and appreciation blurring on his strong face as if I just took a huge weight fromhim.

But he doesn’t look lighter. So maybe we’re carrying ittogether.

Hunter turns away, pouring beer, and I blink to shake away the visual I justconjured.

“Now, the real reason I came over was to show you my actual products. Which, you’ll be pleased to know, have nothing to do with my charm or my body or my tongue ring.” The wicked grin is back, more relaxed but no less potent. “No peeking. It's a taste test. See if you can tell the varietiesapart."

I think about protesting, but what’s theharm?

I try the firstone.

Thesecond.

Thethird.

All I notice is the intent way he's staring atme.

"They're good, but I can't tell which one has”—I consult the box—"blackberry essence. Or strawberry. Orginger."

"You need a palate cleanser.Juice?"

"In thefridge."

He goes back to the kitchen, looks in the cupboard, and frowns. "No morecups."

He opens the dishwasher and smirks. Hunter lifts the vibrator, and my heartstops.

"Something you want to tell me?" hedrawls.

Oh,shit.

"No," I say in my most evenvoice.

He puts it back in the dishwasher and finds a glass. "Toys are a piss-poor replacement for the realthing."

I straighten in my chair, his attitude and my research on other male-dominated companies and products making me bristle. "Some women like to be in the driver's seat. It’s a way to explore their sexuality without fear. Or without doing something intimate with someone they don’t want to have that level of intimacy with just because they want to experience thatfeeling."

Hunter pours the juice and drops back into the chair. "I'm all for female empowerment. My beef is that silicone can't push you. Can't feed off your energy. Can't see what you want but are too scared to askfor."

I’m not sure if it’s his words or the way he says them that has me squeezing my thighstogether.

"Being physical with someone shouldn’t be a challenge,” Imanage.

He passes me the cup, our fingers brushing and sending sparks up my arm. “Why? Because you’re afraid that by losing control, you might learn something aboutyourself?”

I think about Blake as I open my mouth to answer, but it takes a moment. “Because sex is an illusion. A temptation. A distraction from the things that really matter and the kind you can’t just get dressed and walk away from the next day. Even if you wantto.”

I expect him to laugh at me or say something like, “If the sex you’re having doesn’t matter, you’re doing itwrong.”

He doesn’t. But he does shift closer, and my breath catches as I refuse to look down and see the distance narrow betweenus.

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